Empty Coffin
by mabelreid
Summary: What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to decieve... Reid's about to learn the truth of that statement when a friend gives him some startling news. Set between Lauren and Durado Falls JJ/Reid.
1. Gone Forever

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**First attested in English 1380, the word coffin derives from the old French, cofin, from Latin cophinus, which is from the Greek kophinos, meaning, 'basket.' **_

_**Gone Forever**_

One foot in front of the other, he kept saying in his head as he carried this most unwanted of burdens across the yellow green grass of early spring. One foot in front of the other, don't slip, don't fall, don't let go, do not pass Go.

He hated the feel of the hard brass in his right hand as he helped the others carry her to her rest. It stayed cold to the touch as though it were impervious to the warmth of his hand. He squeezed tight as he walked because he loathed his burden, but he didn't want to give her up to the cold, dank earth that waited to receive her body.

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes. He was so tired of crying, of thinking about everything left undone and unsaid. It wasn't fair, but he knew better than anyone that life wasn't fait.

Why did it have to be her? Why did he have to lose someone else he cared for, a treasured friend he loved?

He free hand went up to his eyes to wipe away two tears rolling down his cheeks as they finally came to the spot where she would lie until her body crumbled away to dust. He lowered the coffin as gently as he could, knowing he'd have to let go and step back, but oh how it hurt.

The brass handle slid from his grasp, but he couldn't stop feeling it in his palm. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and stepped back to await the beginning of the simple graveside service she'd wanted.

He couldn't stop staring at the polished wood of the casket. Perhaps if he wished it with enough belief, if he clapped his hands or said 'there's no place like home," she'd open the lid, sit up and tell them it was all a joke. He'd be mad, but he'd get over it just to have her back again.

She didn't sit up; the lid didn't swing open like the climax to some old horror movie. The priest began to pray, but Reid just stared at the coffin. She'd never come back and soon there would be six feet of earth covering her body, hiding her away from them so they didn't have to see the reality of death.

It hit him in the stomach like a physical blow, the pain excruciating, and a thousand times worse than his headaches. He nearly lost control of his gag reflex, as he had in the men's room of the hospital after running away from JJ's words, "She never made it off the table."

Oh God… It was real. This wasn't just some dream he was having from which he couldn't awaken. It wasn't a cruel joke. It was real and he didn't know how to handle it. He almost took a step away from that place, to run, to hide, but he didn't know where he'd go.

He found his eyes drawn to JJ. Her eyes were red, and she stood hunched over like she'd received a blow. He supposed she had because she and Emily had been the best of friends. He should go over, but he didn't know what to say or do and the priest was still talking about everlasting salvation.

He shook his head. What good was everlasting salvation when Emily was going to be in the ground and never coming back? Where was God now when he needed another miracle?

His stomach clenched again. If the priest didn't hurry up, he'd lose it right there and he'd never stop screaming. Unexpectedly, cravings for Dilaudid fired hot in his mind and his blood. His hands began to shake. If he could get his hands on a needle…

Finally, it was over. He left first, ignoring the looks and the half-spoken words of comfort from JJ and Garcia. He refused to look at Hotch or acknowledge Morgan and Rossi. There was somewhere he had to go, the only place he knew could help.

CMCMCMCMCM

It was nearly eleven pm when he shut the door to his apartment and dropped his messenger bag on the floor next to the coat closet to his left. He stood in the darkness of his home, trying to figure out how to go on without Emily.

His friends at BCC all said it would get better with time, but for the first time since he'd met them, he didn't believe it could be true. The only good thing that came from going to a meeting was that the insane craving for escape through Dilaudid was gone, or at least retreated to where it went when he forced it into submission. It was never truly gone, as he'd come to learn.

He leaned against the wall letting his eyes adjust to the darkness broken only by a bit of streetlight from the window in his living room. Once, he'd feared and hated the dark. Now it was his best friend. His head pounded and his stomach was raw and empty, but he couldn't make his fingers reach for the light or his feet take him to the kitchen for something to eat.

It was the beeping of his phone that shook him out of just standing there staring into blackness and hoping it was all a dream. "Reid…" He said automatically.

"Hello Spencer…"

"John, I just saw you. What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid I have some news that you're not going to like."


	2. The Lie in the Truth

**_Disclaimer: see my profile _**

**_The Lie in the Truth_**

Reid pushed away from holding up the wall and made his way through the dark to his living room couch. Confusion swirled in his head. He'd just seen John at the BCC meeting. Why didn't he say anything then?

"I don't understand. We just left a meeting half an hour ago."

John sighed in his ear. "I didn't have this information before the meeting."

Reid swallowed and leaned back against the couch, not hearing the leather squeak around him as he moved. He didn't like the tone in John's voice. He couldn't take any more drama.

"John, I'm not going to lie and say I'm happy about the anxiety I hear in your voice. Why don't you just tell me?"

"I can't tell you over the phone."

His heart leapt up in to his throat and choked him. His heart began to race at his inability to speak, breathe or think. Suddenly the darkness he embraced pressed in around him like a physical being that desired his very soul. He reached over for the lamp, his fingers brushing the base, but not finding the switch. Full-blown panic hit and his head began to pound out in time with his frantically beating heart.

"Spencer!"

Finally, his fingers brushed the switch to the lamp. As the golden light filled the room, his heart gave a huge thump and began to beat normally, but very fast. "I'm sorry, you scared me. What's so important?"

"I need to talk to you in person and away from listening ears."

"I don't like the cryptic spy routine."

"I can't be more specific on the phone. Meet me at Greenwood Park in an hour."

"But John-"

His enigmatic mentor slash superior officer hung up without goodbye. He sat in the light of the lamp staring at his phone. It wasn't bad enough that Emily was gone forever. Now, he didn't have the time to process the fact that he'd just carried her coffin to the place where he'd never see her smile, smell her spicy perfume, or feel the touch of her hand when he needed it. He'd never sit on the train ride home with her and talk about everything.

Traitor tears welled up in his eyes and dropped one by one onto his hands as he stared at them lying in his lap. He made no move to wipe them from his face. His eyes and his cheeks hurt from all the tears he'd cried in the last five days.

Eventually he had to move because as much as he didn't want any more drama in his life, he needed to know what John had to say. Perhaps it would take his mind off Emily and his grief that was so overwhelming that he couldn't stop crying.

* * *

><p>The park at night would've freaked him out even a year ago, but now he didn't care if there were dangers around him. What could someone do to him that was worse than losing Emily was? He got out of his ancient Volvo and leaned against the door.<p>

The wind whispered around him, blowing leaves left over from last year's autumn shedding. Orange light from the street lamps pooled into the darkness without breaking it. The darkness ruled supreme outside the influence of the light and it soothed his heart. The wind swept by him with an icy breath left over from winter that was nearly dead. He shivered, pulled his brown corduroy jacket closer around his thin body and waited.

Yellow lights pierced the dark as a car swung into the parking lot. Reid stood up straight, shading his eyes from the brightness of the light until the car passed him and parked next to his car. He waited in silence with the cold breath of the wind and the smell of wet grass and old leaves. His stomach jolted as bad memories fought to surface through all the pain.

"You're weak."

The familiar voice said in his head, but the voice was far away like a badly tuned radio.

"Dr. Reid!"

John stood right in front of him. His dark eyes were full of something like rage, but also disappointment. Reid flinched away from that dark light, wondering what he'd done.

"Let's walk."

He obeyed the command without hesitation because John was his superior.

"What's wrong?"

"Not out here, walk with me."

His heart began thumping again, because this wasn't John from the group. This was John, FBI bigwig that held his future in his hands. There was nothing for it so he walked; listening to his feet slap the concrete and the wind slip around his ears like it was trying to whisper something important that he couldn't understand.

They passed out of the reach of one of the streetlights in a few seconds. John stopped and turned to him, the rage in his eyes muted a little in the half-light. "I have news for you Spencer."

His back relaxed just a little at the sound of his first name. "Just tell me… You're making me very nervous."

"I'm sorry if I alarmed you. That wasn't my intention. I got a call from a contact at Bethesda Hospital tonight. Unfortunately, he'd been away on assignment for a sister agency or I would've called you days ago."

Reid nodded his head. "What did he say?" His voice was right on the edge of trembling because something was telling him that he knew what John was going to say.

"I'm going to tell you straight out because you've suffered enough over the last week." He pulled out his phone and showed Reid a series of photographs taken in a hospital room.

"I d-don't u-understand." Reid said as all the blood rushed into his heart and set it pounding so hard his knees went to jelly.

"I don't know all the specifics because the minute I saw these I knew something big was happening."

"It c-can't be," Reid said, and again it was like hearing a voice from far away that didn't have any power.

"It is, and you've got to accept and deal with it. Spencer! Listen to me." He snapped at Reid like an angry parent chastising a wayward child. "There's only one reason to fake the death of Emily Prentiss." He grabbed Reid's arms and shook him like a small dog in the mouth of large hound.

"S-she wouldn't do this to me." Reid insisted. "She promised."

"She didn't trust any of you with the truth about Ian Doyle." John hissed. "Now get your head out of your ass and deal with this Dr. Reid."

Reid's head came up with a snap. "Yes sir…"

"Agent Hotchner and Ms Jareau did this without going through official channels. I don't know why, except that they must think the team is in grave danger."

"I don't care!" Reid snapped and suddenly the cold wind around him ceased to make him tremble. The warmth that only comes with rage fired his blood into his head where it buzzed and sawed, like a hive full of insane bees.

"You better care Agent Reid or you'll get your friends killed and make her sacrifice in vain. Is that what you want?" He shook him again like a rag doll in the hand of an angry child.

"No… I don't want anyone to die. I just don't understand why."

John let go of him and stepped back. Reid watched him begin to delete the photographs of Emily lying very much alive in a hospital bed. "Don't put on that naïve and innocent act you're so good at Spencer. I know you better than that. You know why they did this and you better decide right here and now how you're going to deal with it."

"I'm going to talk to Hotch and -"

"You know you can't do that. Ian Doyle is still out there. The only reasons he hasn't tried to pick you off one by one is that he thinks Emily is dead and he knows his son is alive. If you go accusing Agent Hotchner and Ms Jareau of betrayal you'll sign Emily's death warrant."

"They should've trusted me." Reid spit out. "I can keep a secret."

"You keep many secrets." John said evenly. "The keeping of secrets isn't the problem."

Reid's shoulders sagged as the rage cooled in his blood. He shivered and looked around him for the first time as if he thought Ian Doyle might walk out from among the shivering trees.

"They're afraid that Doyle would make me wish I were dead." He said without emotion. "I don't understand that they don't know I'd die first."

"Yes you would," John said. "The difficult part is living for Emily and for the safety of the team. Are you ready to do it?"

"Why did you tell me?" Reid squeaked as tears collected in his eyes. "Why didn't you just keep it to yourself until this plan, whatever it is, succeeds?"

"Because I care about you Spencer; I couldn't let you believe in her death no matter the reason for it. I trust you to keep it to yourself and to do what you have to do to make the other's believe it as well. I know you love her Spencer, as you love the rest of your team."

"So it's back to living a lie." He wiped at the tears dripping from his eyelashes.

"Yes, until this is over and you have her back."

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe we'll ever get her back."

"Come on… Let's get in out of the cold."

Reid looked up at the black sky and a few faint stars he could see between the trees. "I think I'm going to stay here for a while."

"Alright Spencer, I'll leave you to your thoughts. Just look out for yourself okay."

Reid reached out to stop John. "I should be mad at you for telling me all this, but I'm not. Thank you."

John smiled and then hurried off into the trees, disappearing like a shadow incorporating itself into the night. Reid shivered again and pulled his jacket around his neck. He looked up at the stars again but they didn't bring him the comfort he was looking for so he hurried back to his car and home

* * *

><p>He left the lights off in his apartment when he returned home. He didn't want the light to shine on his decision and find fault with it. He left his messenger bag on the floor again and made his way through to his bedroom. Moonlight spilled into the room as his clock ticked over to midnight. Hotch said he didn't have to come right back to work, but he didn't know if he could sit in this apartment and just think about Emily.<p>

He kicked off his shoes and climbed up on to his bed. He clutched one pillow to his chest, breathing in the sheets he'd washed to keep himself busy in the hours of the morning before her funeral. He dug his fingers into the pillowcase. He'd cried for her. He'd carried her coffin to her grave and she wasn't even inside. He'd wished for Dilaudid to take away his pain.

Rage choked him again. If he could, he'd rip the pillow apart. The urge to pull his phone out of his pocket and call JJ or Hotch was so strong, he actually reached into his pocket. He curled one hand into a fist feeling the bite of his nails in his palm. The pain cleared his head so he clenched harder, until he felt blood begin to leak around his fingers.

He couldn't call anyone. He couldn't just get up and drive out to Bethesda. He dropped his head and forced his hands to his sides. Once more, he'd live his life in deception for the sake of survival. He could do it because he'd lived his life that way for the greater part of his childhood. He knew how to lie, to deceive and to put on the smiling face of innocence and ignorance. This time he wouldn't do it for himself or for Emily. He'd do it for the life of an innocent child who didn't deserve to suffer for the sins of his father.


	3. Acting the Part

**_Disclaimer: see my profile _**

**_Acting the Part_**

Reid tried to avoid his own gaze in the bathroom mirror, but failed miserably. His eyes stared back at him in a hollow way that made him shiver to his toes. As a rule, over the last two weeks, he avoided looking too long into his own eyes for fear of what he might see behind them. Actually, he was lying to himself because he knew what he'd see behind his eyes, it was the same thing he remembered from twenty years ago when he was a child.

_Then, he used to go into the small bathroom down the hall from his room and stare at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He'd try to see beyond the young haunted eyes of a child that no one really saw because he was a genius. He didn't act out at school, avoided the bullies when he could, or remained silent when he couldn't avoid their torments. He took care of his mother; cooked, cleaned, made sure she bathed or ate, or took her medication when he could. _

_He never missed school even when he was so sick he could hardly stay upright in class so they wouldn't call his mother. He was polite, even-tempered and quiet as a mouse. He could outthink most of the teachers and all of the administration staff by the time he was ten and his father left, so it was easy to stay out of the way of any adult that might be curious. The fact that most of them didn't notice he was desperately lonely and neglected only helped him. _

Reid looked away from the mirror and shut off the memories of his childhood. He was an adult. He'd lived his life outside the influence of foster care and now he was a man. He sighed and looked down at his hands. Once again, he'd play a game, the game he thought he'd left behind when they'd come to take his mother away and he was free of the entire pretense.

He straightened his tie, smoothed down the navy blue sweater vest he wore and left the bathroom to find his shoes. JJ was expecting him for brunch at her house that Sunday morning and it was show time. He only wondered how long he'd have to play the game this time.

* * *

><p>He stood on her porch waiting for his knock to be answered. The two weeks since Emily's funeral had left the mark of spring more pronounced on Virginia. The yellowed lawns were beginning to turn green. Colorful flowers in crimson red, sunshine yellow and deep indigo were on display like some garish sideshow he didn't want to see. It was better if the skies were grey and rains were crashing down on his head.<p>

The door opened and Will stood there with a somber face. "Hello Spencer, come on in. Jennifer's been anxious to see you."

The urge to respond with "I'll just bet she has," was so overwhelming he had to bite the inside of his cheek.

Bright pain reminded him of the reason he was here to see his friend. Oh, but was she his friend anymore? He didn't know.

"I've been anxious to talk to her too." He heard his voice say with just the right amount of quaver.

He stepped into the entryway with its familiar wrought iron and glass table to his right. Several family photographs were arranged on the spotless top. He noticed that a new photograph of Emily, JJ and him at the BAU stood to the right of a picture of Henry with JJ. Reid knew this picture; he'd seen it a thousand times upon entering the house. JJ was holding Henry as a baby, holding him up so that he smiled down at her from a greater height. She smiled up at him with so much light and joy in her eyes that every time Reid saw the picture he had to smile. Today, he didn't smile.

"Spence."

JJ came out of the kitchen and hurried to him. She wrapped him up in her arms hugging him so tight he almost squirmed. His arms hesitated for a minute then he hugged her close, despite wanting to push her away until she understood his pain. He stayed standing there listening to her whisper words of comfort. She was so good at lying to him right to his face that it scared him. What if John hadn't told him the truth? He'd probably be crying again, as he had at the hospital. Finally, he couldn't stand it so he gently disentangled from her grasp.

"Spence… I am so glad you came this morning. I've been so worried about you."

He wanted to say "Oh really, then why don't you tell me the truth instead of lying to me."

Instead, he said. "I'm alright JJ. I'm glad you called me because…" He hitched in a long shaky breath filling his lungs with the smell of eggs and sizzling bacon, onions and cheese that made his mouth water. "I-" He began again. "I was thinking about Emily this morning and how she liked brunch on Sundays. I'm really going to miss those times with her."

"I'm so sorry," She whispered. "I wish I could do something to help."

He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying the first thing that came into his head. It was much harder to censure his speech as an adult. He knew that should bother him, but right now he couldn't care less.

"Maybe…" He began hesitatingly. "Do you think that you and I could see each other every week, just for a while? I really need to count on your friendship right now."

He watched her deep cobalt eyes as he spoke. She almost recoiled from his request, but she rallied fast, he gave her that. Again, it was a struggle for him not to congratulate her on her ability to act. In a way, it was almost funny, they'd be up for Academy awards if they were professional actors and this was some television show about FBI profilers.

"I'd love to make it a new tradition Spence. I think it would help both of us to adjust."

"Thank you JJ. I know I'm asking a lot of you."

"It's okay. I'm here for you always."

He watched her eyes again and saw that while she meant she'd be there for him, which he knew to be true, he could also see that she hated the idea of him there every week.

"Thank you JJ. I'm glad I still have you."

He hugged her again, holding on tight even when he could feel that she wanted to pull away from him. He released her when Will came back into the living room with Henry toddling beside him.

"Spence," his little godson hurried over to him with a huge grin on his face holding out his little arms.

"Hey Henry," he knelt down and scooped the little boy up into his arms.

Tears gathered in his eyes as guilt swarmed into his gut like worms digging into cold, wet and dark earth. How could he play act this way with the mother of his godson? What would Henry think of him if he knew?

"It's good to see you." He kissed the top of his Godson's head and stood up.

"Play with Spence." The boy asked.

"Yes… I'll play with you." He said in a quavering voice, "After we have something yummy to eat with mommy and daddy."

"Kay," Henry clung to Reid's hand when he lowered the boy to ground and faced JJ and Will.

"Spence…" JJ began.

"I'm okay. I was just thinking that I've missed seeing Henry. It's been a long two weeks." He heard himself say instead of just blurting out that he knew the truth.

He was trapped, he realized in one short second. Henry was innocent, but what if Doyle's men were watching them? What if he confronted JJ or Hotch, or shouted his knowledge from the rooftops? What could that mean for Henry, Jack and Declan?

He forced a smile on his face as Henry pulled on his hand. Will said, "Take it easy little man. Brunch is almost ready."

"Will is a great cook," JJ was saying as they made their way past the big chocolate leather couch that faced the big screen television that played cartoons and kids movies endlessly for Henry.

Reid kept his eyes on the toys that were scattered around the room instead of looking at Henry or JJ. If he could just stay strong, enough to get through this, it would be okay. For the first time in months he was glad he didn't have to see JJ every day at work.

"Why don't you sit next to Henry?" Will was saying as they entered the little dining area off the kitchen.

Sunlight streamed into the room that was surrounded on three sides with windows. The table setting was bright with yellow plates and orange place mats underneath them. The blond wood of the table and chairs reminded him of sunshine. He wanted to scream, but bit the inside of his cheek for the third time.

He helped Henry up into a booster seat and took his place next to the boy, which happened to be directly across from JJ. She smiled at him, but it barely touched her eyes. If he were still in the dark about Emily's death…

"Soup's on," Will said cheerfully.

Reid forced another smile onto his face. "I'm hungry." He said.

JJ gave him a genuine smile that lit up her face like the one he remembered and something in his heart hurt so much it was as if someone was driving a spike into his chest.

* * *

><p>Reid sat on the floor with Henry playing with some toy cars Morgan had given the boy for his last birthday gift. Henry pushed them around making noises like a racing car engine, which made Reid smile in spite of his grief. Emily had saved this little boy from Ian Doyle's wrath by keeping silent about her involvement with the man. How could he be angry?<p>

"Hey Spence," JJ sat down on the couch, its leather squeaking as she moved.

"Hi," he said, looking her right in the eye.

His mouth began to tremble and tears coursed down his cheeks. He kept the thought of losing his little Godson to the wrath of a monster as guilt sprang into JJ's eyes. She left the couch and knelt next to him, wrapping her arms around him while he cried on her shoulder for the loss of a friendship that would never be the same even if there were some way out of this mess.


	4. Life Changing Decisions

_**Disclaimer: see my profile **_

_**Life Changing Decisions**_

It was raining again. He turned away from the window behind his old battered couch and went to his keyboard. His fingers tripped lightly over the keys as the raindrops tapped on the glass panes. The tune, the very first one he learned to play from a young boy trapped in his own world, but capable of such beauty in his music.

Ever since John had told him that Emily was alive, he'd lost the pleasure in playing the piano. Once it had soothed his headaches and brought happiness to his soul. Now it was just a reminder of the time before his friends betrayed him. In his head, time was divided in two, the time before the betrayal and the time after the betrayal. It was as if some great scythe had fallen, irreparably severing everything and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

He had a decision to make. Hotch had given them the option to remain with the team or move on. A year ago, he wouldn't have considered it seriously, but the last two months had given him serious pause about the work he chose to do.

His fingers moved back to the keyboard and rested there. They wanted to play more music, but he couldn't get them to move. Anger such as he'd never known in his life filled his gut with acid burn and set his heart to racing. He lifted his hands and slammed them down on the keys, which cried out like someone shoved a knife into the belly of a pig.

Why should he stay with a team that no longer valued honesty amongst its members? Logic dictated that if his coworkers didn't trust him, then he should go somewhere else. It made sense that if his friends didn't think he could handle the truth, then they really didn't know him.

He left his place at his keyboard and returned to the widow behind his couch. The white slat blinds cut the windows in pieces, like his heart, he thought. It happened every time he gave his trust to someone; they threw it back in his face. He laughed bitterly and the sound was hollow in the small apartment. Why hadn't he learned by now that trust was only a road to pain and betrayal?

The rain increased in intensity until it pounded the window so hard he could barely see the outside world. Everything outside the window rippled and changed into something alien and unrecognizable, like his life. He inhaled deeply, trying to fill his lungs and slow the mad beating of his heart, but it didn't work. His hands clenched to fists again wanting to strike out, and suddenly it was there, the urge for the needle.

His whole body began to shake and his mouth to water as though he were about to sit down at the most delicious banquet meal. The rain slowed, the noise of hundreds of thousands of drops striking the ground and windows easing off to a murmur, but he could still hear it pounding in his head. Pain, white hot and blinding, burst into his brain. He grabbed at his head, pulling on his hair hard enough to add a sharp counterpoint to the agony inside his skull. He clamped his jaws shut through sheer force of will and the knowledge that if he screamed, a neighbor might interfere or call the police. It had happened before, he knew.

The rain stopped, he staggered away from the window to his couch and dropped down onto the rough material. His long fingers dug into the couch so hard the material nearly tore in his grasp. The tips of his fingers ached, but the pain couldn't compete with the blinding white-hot agony in his head. He gasped in lungful of air, but nausea choked him. He staggered back to his feet, stumbled through the living room to his bathroom and slammed the door shut.

* * *

><p>The rain was over when Reid left his room for the second time that day. His stomach clenched at the thought of food, but he was so weak from the nausea and vomiting he had to do something. He shambled to the kitchen pulling his robe around his thin body hoping that he had something soothing to eat that wouldn't send him running back to the bathroom.<p>

He found in the cabinet, a can of chicken noodle soup that he thought he might be able to tolerate. The pain in his head had softened to a level he could function with, so he set about making a simple dinner. Thank God, Hotch hadn't called them in this weekend. He didn't think he could handle the team on top of everything else.

He took the bowl of soup and some dry wheat toast to his small kitchen table and sat. Somewhere in the back of his head, the craving for the needle and the numbing power of the drug had pulled back like the waves of the tide going in and out on the ocean shore. It was still there, and part of him desperately wanted to give in, the last four years be damned. A person could only take so much.

He looked out the kitchen window as he ate slowly. The sky was drab grey with black smudges at the edges of the retreating storm clouds, white and blue showed through like the torn lining of a worn out jacket. He frowned at the thought of sunlight and shivered. The soup wasn't taking the chill off his heart or the anger from his soul.

Perhaps it was time for him to accept another assignment even if it was temporary. He could work in another area of the FBI and still be a part of the law enforcement life he'd chosen so long ago. What should he chose though? He spooned up more of the soup and let the food slid down to rest on his raw stomach. It was so delicious and it felt wonderful inside. For the first time that day, he felt like everything might be okay.

He knew it was the fact that he'd made the decision to go somewhere else for a while. The problem now was figuring out where to work that was best for his talents. Perhaps he could teach. No, he didn't like standing up in front of cadets and teaching classes even if it was on some of his favorite subjects.

He picked up his toast and bit thoughtfully into the bread. Maybe he could go to anti-terrorism. God knew the world could do without one more terrorist. No, going through data all day long and trying to predict the next attack on the U.S. wasn't something he really thought of as a good use of his time.

The last drop of the lovely warm soup hit his stomach and he sighed. His headache was nearly gone now and he started to wonder if the doctor wasn't right. Maybe it was psychosomatic and brought on my intense stress. He finished his toast and the last of the tea he'd made to go with his lunch. Yes, he was definitely feeling better and up to the challenge of deciding what to do with his life now that everything had changed so dramatically.

He took his cup and plate to the sink and washed them out. The sun was beginning to peek through the last of the clouds from the storm. He studied the wet ground and the puddles of water that lay in the brightening sky. Summer was nearly upon DC and for the first time in two months, he felt like maybe everything would be all right.

He took another cup of tea with him to the living room and his keyboard. As he sat, down and began to play again, he thought about going somewhere other than the FBI. He could work on some kind of research and development project. He got offers for that kind of thing all the time. In fact, a recruiter had contacted him just last week.

His fingers picked out a happier tune now that the long golden rays of late afternoon were spilling into his window between the slats of the blinds and leaving shadows on the carpet. No, he didn't want to go into the private sector world. He looked down at his hands playing the keyboard and thought about a little boy with autism and how he lost his father.

Then it came to him as clearly, as if the answer were sent down to him from some higher power. He'd ask for the chance to work with Katie Cole at CACU. The chance to help kids was too much to pass up even if it had the potential to be even more stressful then the BAU. At least there, he'd have new agents to work with and perhaps he'd more easily trust people that would give their lives for children.

When he finished the little sprightly tune he'd been playing he thought about calling Katie Cole right then, but he decided to let her have her weekend. He knew that with her job time away was as precious as gold. He thought that reading a few of the books he'd borrowed from the library earlier in the week was a better thing to do. Now that his headache was gone, he could be caught up on the stack next to his couch.

When he put down the third book an hour later, he still felt like his life was going in the right direction but he couldn't stop thinking about JJ and what to do about her. Henry was a huge part of his life. He had to see his godson, yet he wanted to blurt out that he knew the truth and he never wanted to see JJ again for everything she'd done.

He got up to pace the room again. He was a genius; he had to come up with some way to make peace with JJ for the sake of Henry. He'd gone over there every week for the last eight weeks and cried on her should like a grief stricken friend. He didn't know how much longer he could pretend that he didn't know.

He went back to his keyboard and started to play again. His mind went to Emily and he wondered for the hundredth time in two months if she were okay. Would she find Ian Doyle and take him out before he could hurt anyone? Would she come back if she did, or would she stay away? Did he want to see her if she did? Did he want to try to be her friend or forgive JJ and Hotch if she came back?

He stopped playing again and sat there staring at the black and white keys. Even if he did leave the BAU, he couldn't walk away from his friends even if they hurt him. Emily was alive and she was safe with new identities that none of them had, so even if Ian Doyle came looking for her, she couldn't be betrayed.

He scratched at his arm. The wanting of the needle was pulsing back in his head, but the pain of his headache stayed in the background. He grabbed his jacket from lying over the arm of the couch and his bag. He needed to go to a meeting, because it had been way too long. He needed the support of people that would never betray him. He needed his friends.


	5. Gunfire

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Gunfire_**

JJ slowly descended the steps to the firing range, below their building. Usually, she heard a multitude of shots all from different firearms that combined into an odd music that alternately grated on her nerves and made her blood sing for the fight. The first time she'd come down her during her days as a cadet had been intimidating, but she came to like the adrenaline spike in her blood when she pulled the trigger. There was something primal about it that was so exciting.

The room went silent for a moment as her foot hit the last stair. She walked around the corner to the large room with a concrete floor, cubicles made from plexi-glass with individual counters for weapons, ammunition, and visual and auditory protections. They were all empty except for the last one at the far end of the room. Reid was in the last cubicle reloading the revolver he always carried.

She stepped forward when he replaced his ear protectors and took aim at the target several yards away at the other end of the square windowless room. The report of the gun going off in this place and without ear covering was deafening. She stopped short and hurried back to the first cubicle to grab protection. She'd been so intent on speaking to Reid, she hadn't thought of protection against the noise. Even with the mufflers on her head, she could hear little pops that startled her with each shot.

He didn't hear her come up behind him, but she thought that maybe he knew she was there. She could see it in the way the set of his shoulders changed. Her eyes watched the way his back muscles flexed when he moved. He legs were tight and she was sure he'd leave if not for a greater purpose.

He'd spent all his free time down here for the last four months. He came and went from Quantico like a ghost, avoiding all of them except for an occasional visit to Garcia and occasionally, talking to Morgan. When he told her he was going to work for Katie Cole, she'd felt a relief that she was ashamed of to her core because it meant she didn't have to lie to him on a daily basis after coming back to the BAU.

She watched him as he reloaded; still ignoring her while, she struggled to find words. He'd changed in the last seven years. Some of those changes she applauded, but others, like the way he pulled the trigger repeatedly, scared her. He'd been just twenty-three when they met, a painfully shy, sweet, and annoying young man with all his statistics and facts. She hadn't appreciated his huge intellect, finding him odd and sometimes pompous. The fact that he'd had a crush on her for months heightened her irritation.

Now, he was confident, mature, and at ease with his place in their world. He was an asset she wished she could work with again, but most of all he was one of her best friends. She loved him like a brother and he was godfather to her son. It hurt her down to her core to see him so violent now. What did he think of when he shot his gun? Did he visualize a face on the target? If he did, what face did he see? She didn't have to see his face to know that every fiber of his being was there in the moment with the gun and the target. It was as though the weapon had somehow pulled him out of this reality into a world where only the face of his enemy resided and he couldn't stop trying to obliterate it.

Her heart began to pound and fear, as she'd never known, enveloped her like some malignant cloud. Reid was the only one of them that valued the way of peace. He always tried to talk his way out of a situation where the rest of them might have shot first and asked questions later. He'd willingly step in front of a loaded gun if it meant a life could be saved. He hated having to recertify every year, and now, here he was making every shot count. His target had a cluster of hits so tight around the heart, it was as though every bullet had been programmed to hit.

He reloaded again took a different aim and she watched him destroy the head of the target. She shivered, as cold strengthened its hold on his heart, like a vice made from ice. She wanted to reach out and stop him, but when she tried to reach out her hand and touch his shoulder, she couldn't make her arm move.

"Hello JJ," he finally said, without turning to face her.

She watched him pull off his ear protection. His shoulders slumped just a bit, but straightened again in an instant.

"Hello Spence…" Her voice shook which alarmed her like nothing had in the last four months.

"What are you doing down here?"

The cold demand in his voice angered her, but she kept her tone as neutral as she could. "I was looking for you. I wondered if you'd like to have brunch this weekend."

He finally turned around to look her in the face. His eyes were flat and cold and she shivered again. "I don't think I can make it JJ."

"What's wrong Spence? You've been distant for months. I know you miss Emily. We all do, but we have to get on with our lives."

She saw something pass through his eyes as his jaw clenched tight. He wanted to say something to her, she could see it, but he remained silent.

"Talk to me," she pleaded.

"I'm fine. It's been a very long week. We had a case outside of Richmond that was one of the worst I've ever seen with children."

She knew it wasn't the case that put the dark shadows in his eyes, or perhaps her guilt was clouding her judgment. The loss of innocence she'd sensed in him was just a reflection of the secret she kept from him.

He suddenly smiled at her and she actually took a step back. "Don't worry JJ. I'm not going to get lost this time. I have friends that care for me."

She swallowed, fighting back tears at his words because he didn't mean her or the team. She could see it in his expression.

"I'm glad Spence. We're always going to be friends."

His smile faded. "I don't know if I believe in that anymore. Emily is gone and our team is fractured, maybe beyond repair. I wish someone could make it better, but no one can."

She almost opened her mouth then. After all these months and every Sunday morning Reid had come to her house, and cried for Emily, this was the time she was most sorely tempted to tell him everything.

"I miss seeing you every week. You haven't seen Henry in three weeks and we haven't had our weekly brunch in months."

Something like rage flickered in his eyes and she nearly stepped back from its intensity, but then it was gone again and it was just Spence standing there.

"When I asked Katie Cole if I could work with her, I didn't realize it would be so emotionally draining." He gave her a wan smile. "I guess I didn't want to go to your house and take that with me to see Henry."

"He misses you."

Reid's smile faltered a bit. "I miss him too. Look, I'll try to come see you both this weekend if I don't have a case."

She reached out, the paralysis in her arms broken and hugged him hard. He didn't put his arms around her. He felt like a stranger that she didn't know, so she let him go after only a few seconds. "I'll leave you alone. Be careful Spence."

"Always," he squeaked just a little.

She smiled at how his voice went up an octave. She hadn't heard him do that for so long she'd almost forgotten. Maybe everything would be okay, even if Emily were never able to come back.

* * *

><p>He watched her leave the shooting range. The rage he'd held in when she'd appeared there to ask him why he hadn't come to her house in weeks swelled up. How much longer did he have to pretend that everything was okay?<p>

He turned back to his revolver and reloaded again. If only John hadn't told him. His friend and mentor had meant well, but maybe ignorance truly was bliss. He put on his ear protection and aimed his gun at the target. It was good that John told him. He couldn't imagine what his life would be like if he actually believed Emily to be dead.

He looked at the target and the same face he saw every time he came down here superimposed itself over the head of the target. It was the face of evil, the face of a man that had destroyed the team. He wished that man stood in front of him for real, so he could pull the trigger and feel his rage disappear. It was the face of Ian Doyle.

He pulled the trigger and the face dissolved, but he knew it would be back, in his dreams and in his waking hours. It would be there until somehow, someway Ian Doyle came back, and Reid knew he would, it was only a matter of time.


	6. The Thruth Shall Set You Free

**_Disclaimer: see my profile _**

**_The Truth Shall Set You Free_**

When his phone rang, he had just returned to his seat after taking his turn in front of his BCC family. It was nice, for a change, to complete his thoughts before the interruption of the job. He pulled out his phone and frowned as he got up from his seat and hurried to the back of the room and out the door.

"Morgan?"

"Reid, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you at Quantico as fast as you can get here."

Irritation made him clench the phone so hard to his ear that his hand began to cramp up. Why couldn't he have just one night?

"I don't work for the BAU anymore Morgan. Did you forget?"

"No, I didn't forget. Something's happened; Ian Doyle's back."

Reid almost dropped the phone, despite expecting this news for months. His cramping hand clenching the phone again as he walked out the door into the mild night with a black sky and bright moon, but no visible stars.

"I'm on my way." Reid said, cutting Morgan off in the middle of his next sentence.

"Spencer!"

He turned back to see John shutting the door. "Hello John, um I really have to go -"

"I know, I was just informed of the developments."

"I can't talk about it John. I really have to get going."

John grabbed his shoulder. "There's more to this than you know Spencer. Take a minute and think about what this means."

Reid shook him off. "I know what it means. He's back because he found his son. Declan is in Virginia, he's always been here."

John smirked. "That's the Spencer Reid I've been missing."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been missing in action and I don't just mean from the BAU. I understand how you feel, but now you have a choice you need to make."

Reid began walking toward his car. "I don't know what you're talking about." He lied.

"Yes you do. You've done good work with Katie Cole's team, but your heart isn't in it like it was when you were a part of the BAU team."

"I don't have time to talk about this John. If it's true about Doyle, then that means-" He stopped mid sentence to continue on his way to the car.

"Yes, it _does_ mean that Emily might come back." John said as Reid pulled out his keys and stuck the car key in the lock. The click was much louder to Reid than it should have been, considering the traffic that whizzed by on the street.

"I realize that John. There's also the possibility that she won't come back. Maybe she'll decide that it's better to stay away."

"Do you really believe she won't come back?" He stopped Reid from opening the door and getting into the ancient Volvo.

"You tell me John. I don't know her anymore. She's not the same person I knew seven months ago. In fact, I'm not sure I ever knew her. She had this other life that none of knew about or even suspected. She did things I never thought she'd be capable." He squeaked.

"You're right." John agreed. "She never told you everything there was to know about her. Did _you_ ever tell her?"

Reid's fingers froze on the door. "I trusted her more than anyone else in my life." He hissed in a deadly calm tone.

He slammed into the car, started the engine and pulled away from the curb, leaving John staring after him. It wasn't the first time he wished that John had never told him Emily was still alive.

The moon was two days past full in the black sky as he drove toward Quantico. He rolled down the window so he could feel the breeze on his face. The wind smelled clean and a little like the rain that had fallen earlier in the day.

He arrived at Quantico in record time because it was late and the traffic was light. He parked, shut off the car and sat there staring at the other cars in the parking lot. He should be jumping out of his car, but he couldn't get his mind off the fact that Emily might come back very soon. He shook his head and got out of the car, jumping at the clunking sound the door made as it closed. No matter what Emily had done, there was a little boy to think of and protect.

* * *

><p>He thought they'd have more time to get to Doyle before something happened to Declan, but he was wrong. The boy was gone and there they were in the round table room trying to figure out who'd taken him. Doyle was in custody thanks to Morgan's quick action, but Reid didn't care if the man lived or died. Even Charles Henkel hadn't filled him with such contempt for the life of another human being.<p>

When Hotch called them all together to tell them something, he knew what was coming. _Finally_, his boss was going to confess his and JJ's deception. Reid's hands began to sweat. His stomach was rolling with acid and he wanted to throw up. If only he were innocent like the rest of his team. He'd faked it for months, but what now?

He listened with half an ear to Hotch, keeping his eyes on Garcia's surprised and hurt face while his boss explained how the deception happened and why. Surprised by his own sense of self-preservation, he found his mouth saying. "But we buried her," in an appropriately hurt tone.

He supposed that he was hurt, more than he'd ever been hurt in his life. Then she was there looking as beautiful as he remembered. He wanted to leave, to walk out and never come back because he couldn't take it, but she was there and it had been so long. His heart thumped so hard, he wondered if everyone could hear it. What must they think?

She hugged them all. When it was his turn, he embraced her hard because he couldn't bear not touching her, or taking in the spicy perfume that she wore which always reminded him of nutmeg and ginger cookies. He had to feel her arms around him and smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo. And, he remembered that night… No! He refused to let his mind go down that path. He let go of her and watched her talk to Morgan who resembled a man that had been hit right in the gut by someone he trusted. Reid supposed they all had.

Anger replaced relief at seeing her soon after she began to speak and add her knowledge of Declan to what they already knew. It burned in him like fire too close to the skin of a marshmallow turning it black and crunchy. He wanted to turn it on Emily, on JJ and Hotch, but he couldn't, not then. They had to wait until they dealt with Ian Doyle.

He hated the smug look on Doyle's face when he went into the interrogation room to try to get something from the man to help them find Declan and his mother. Doyle was right when speculated on how much Reid hated him. If only Doyle knew, that Reid pictured his face every time he fired his gun on the range.

Emily was so surprised that Reid would want to trade Doyle for his son. It was almost laughable. What else could they do?

"I'll chain myself to him if I have to." He'd snapped at her.

He wasn't afraid of Doyle or his so-called associates and enemies, after all he'd survived some of the worst humanity had to offer. It wasn't even that, he'd survived Emily's faked death.

They got Declan back after killing everyone including Ian Doyle. His only disappointment was that it wasn't his bullet that killed Doyle. He knew he should be upset by this anger, but he didn't care. Ian had taken Emily from him and he murdered countless others, he deserved his fate. Ian had been good for one thing; his face on the shooting range had helped Reid place three shots into Declan's mother. Taking her out was a pleasure he relished that night, as she was as bad, or worse, than Ian Doyle was. If only Declan didn't have to live with the fact of his biological origins. Reid knew what that was like and wouldn't wish it on anyone.

This time, killing someone hadn't left him with that numb feeling he knew so well, this time he'd enjoyed it. He knew he should be concerned by his feelings, but right then he didn't care.

What he hadn't expected, although he should have expected it, was the backlash from the FBI and from the Senator that headed the appropriations committee for the Bureau. The minute they returned from the raid to face the music, SC Erin Strauss was right there to inform them of their suspensions, until the review board talked to all of them and made a decision on their fates.

He wanted to feel bad at the smug feeling of elation that coursed through him at the expression on JJ's face at the news, but he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty.

She caught up with him at the elevator three hours later when his eyes were burning from paperwork and trying to hold back his irritation at being drawn into this farce.

"Spence…. I wanted to talk to you."

"JJ, I'm really beat. Can we please do this later?"

The elevator cooperated with him, opening its door just as JJ tried to speak. "I really have to go." He shook off her restraining hand.

"Will I see you for brunch?'

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know JJ."

"I'll call you." She promised, hope in her cobalt eyes.

There was a time when those eyes could get him to do almost anything. He was ecstatic to come to the realization that those days were long over. He smiled broadly, as the door shut on JJ with her puzzled expression, and whisked him down to the garage.


	7. Trust is earned

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

_**An Here's the last chapter folks. Thank you all for your support, most especially my wonderful beta Reidfanatic for all her help and ideas. **_

_**Trust is earned**_

He knew he couldn't avoid her forever, not now that he'd made the decision to come back to the BAU. John was right when he'd said that working for Katie wasn't where his heart was, despite the betrayal. He frowned and stood up for his stop. The train ground to a halt with clashing wheels on steel. He swung his messenger bag over his shoulder and prepared to face the team for their first case since Emily had returned.

Unfortunately, the day began against him. He left the elevator right as JJ and Emily walked by looking and sounding like what JJ called BFF's. _Of course, they were best friends_, he thought bitterly. _They'd_ been in on the whole sorry mess together. The only reason why his hands didn't curl into fists at the sound was that they were occupied with a file folder.

"Hey… Where have you been?" JJ started in on him immediately. "I wanted to have brunch this weekend."

He didn't have time to think so he fell back on the old standby. "I had to deal with some stuff with my mom. Have you seen Garcia?"

He refused to make eye contact with her. He couldn't take her eyes at that moment or the irritation he knew he'd see in them.

He heard her say to Emily. "He hates me."

He nearly turned around and said, "You got that right," but he reined it in and continued up to see Garcia.

At least he had work to keep a distance between them.

* * *

><p>By the time, the day was over; Reid was as close to violence against someone on his team as he'd ever been since joining the BAU. JJ had pushed him and pushed him all day long. When he began responding to her jibes, she turned on him.<p>

It was classic really, when attacked an animal will always strike back. _Humans are animals_, he thought. _We're just smarter and we have opposable thumbs and a moral compass_. He almost laughed as he entered the door to his motel room for the night. Here he was trying to justify his and JJ's behavior to each other.

He dropped his bag on the double bed and immediately went to the bathroom for a hot shower. He flicked on the lights and winced at all the white. Why did all hotel bathrooms have to be white, white walls, sinks and even the towels? The only thing that broke the unrelieved whiteness was the fixtures at the sink and in the shower.

He looked in the mirror over the sink and stared into his eyes. It still disturbed him, what he saw in them when he looked for too long. Sometimes they were just his eyes, nothing remarkable about them. Garcia had once said that he reminded her of a small puppy. He remembered wondering what she was talking about. He'd seen puppies and his eyes weren't anything like puppy eyes. He leaned closer to the mirror, using one hand to pull down the lower edge of his eye, and then tug on his eyelid. No, there wasn't any resemblance to a puppy's eyes. It was just crazy. It occurred to him that he might be going nuts standing there wondering what Garcia meant when all he wanted was a shower and a little sleep.

The shower didn't help clear his mind. All he could think about with the water pounding down around him and steam eddying around his shoulders was that he didn't know what to do next. He just wanted all of it to be over. He wanted everything to go back the way it was. Why couldn't he just live his life with his friends and family, without worrying about change? Why couldn't they be always safe from the perils of life and the enemies they'd all made by virtue of trying to help others?

He shut off the water, grabbed a fluffy white towel and stepped out of the shower to dry off. The sad fact, he was beginning to see, was that they couldn't go back and everything happened for a reason. He ran the towel through his hair and over his face. The anger he'd nursed for so many months still simmered in his gut. The fire it made there wasn't easily extinguished, but he was tired, so tired of all the rage.

When he shut off the light after crawling into another lonely bed, his new friend, the darkness embraced him like a long forgotten lover come back to him. He didn't fear it the way he once had because the worst thing that could happen to him had already happened. He turned over on his back, putting his hands behind his head. He'd never stopped to think until that moment that nothing in the inky night could hurt him as badly as his mother, his father and his friends. He'd survived it all.

He stared up at the ceiling he couldn't see and thought about survival. Emily had survived her near fatal wounds and come back stronger.

He reached over and touched the medallion he always kept close, even in sleep as a talisman against his personal demons. He'd survived death itself at the hands of Rafael thanks to Tobias. There were other times he'd survived, simply on his ability to talk his way out of trouble.

Garcia survived a gunshot wound. He smiled to think of his flamboyant friend and her outlook on life.

Morgan had overcome the worst torture that could be visited on a child by someone he trusted more than any other as a boy. He'd come through losing his father and was stronger for it.

Rossi lived through twenty years of lending his strength to three children that lost their parents to a sad and despicable over reaction by a small boy trapped in a man's body. Now those children were adults and their parents killer was known, thanks to David Rossi's dogged perseverance.

Hotch knew the pain of nearly meeting death, and seeing it take the one person he loved above all others save his son. Haley was gone forever! She'd never come back.

Reid's eyes opened wide again as he'd nearly fallen to sleep. Emily had come back to them. Declan was safe and with help, he'd come to understand, if not forgive the man and the woman that were his parents. He'd live, and Reid knew he'd make something of his life.

Wasn't that what it was all about?

He turned over again and tried to close his eyes. It wasn't that simple! His substitute family was in pieces, shattered by the hatred of one man. He sighed, and turned over again. He had to get some sleep. There was still a sadistic killer out there to find. He'd have to start again tomorrow and try to figure out how to put the pieces of his life back together again, if it was possible. He returned the medallion to its place on the nightstand, but for a long time his eyes wouldn't close.

* * *

><p>Reid pulled up in front of Rossi's huge home and switched off the engine. He'd made it on time, but he couldn't quite make his hands let go of the steering wheel to go inside. All he could think of was how he'd gotten into this situation. He was still reeling from Emily and her revelation that she had an ulcer from missing the team so much. She'd had the nerve to tell him not to give her another ulcer.<p>

His hands tightened on the wheel until they began to cramp up. The cooling interior of the car made him shiver, at least that was what he told himself, as he sat there, trying to leave the car and go inside. Perhaps it was time to play nice with his team.

He let go of the wheel then slapped it with one hand. Here he was letting them guilt him into forgiving them when all he wanted to do was to be left alone with his anger. It was childish, but he wanted to have the anger. It was the only thing he really had anymore, aside from his mother trapped in her mind in an institution.

He hung his head, bowed down by the weight of the fact he wanted to hang on to his anger like a child clutched a favorite toy to his breast so that another child couldn't take it. Tears welled up in his eyes. He blinked them away because if the others saw them, they wouldn't leave him alone.

He looked up at the night sky. Even though he was in a fancy suburb with acres between homes, the sky was bereft of stars. The moon peeked out from behind a few high clouds it illuminated turning them grey and translucent. He had made his decision and now was the time to live with it no matter the cost.

* * *

><p>It was easier than he thought to join his family and smile as they laughed and joked while Rossi gave them a cooking lesson. He liked Rossi's kitchen. It was so much different from the one he'd had at home, or from the one he'd grown up with in Las Vegas.<p>

He wanted to be mad, but he couldn't help but smile at JJ when they made their toast. It was a bit of a relief to let go of some of the anger that had propped him up for the last six months. It didn't hurt that watching Garcia and Morgan try to cook was very funny.

He was in Rossi's living room staring at a huge mahogany bookcase full of leather bound books when JJ came up behind him.

"Hey Spence…" She said quietly. "I'm glad you came."

He hesitated for a minute and then turned around. "I wasn't going to come."

Her smile froze on her face. "Spence, I really think -"

"JJ," he held out a hand. "I know I've been angry. I'm not going to apologize for it. You did something that to me is unforgivable."

"I don't know why -"

"I came here," he interrupted her again, "because I'm tired of all the lies and the anger that's tearing everyone apart.

Her eyes softened a bit. "I am sorry. I only did what I thought was right."

"I don't doubt that, but you have to understand that I can't just pretend that you didn't lie to me."

JJ laid a hand on his arm. He resisted the urge to yank away from her touch. "I promise you Spence, that I'll never betray you again.

He smiled down at her. "I believe you." He said.

"I know I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but what made you change your mind."

"I didn't change my mind. It's going to take time to trust you again."

She stepped away. "Thank you for letting me try. Why don't you come back in and join the party. Rossi's ready to make his grandmother's cannoli recipe for desert.

"Well I guess I can't miss that."

She held out a hand to him. He took it, holding onto it for the briefest of moments before letting her go again. He looked down as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his medallion. He twirled it is his fingers seeing the flames from the fireplace reflect off it and remembered that there were times when we all needed to ask for forgiveness. He put the precious metal back in his pocket. "I'm right behind you."

**_THE END_**


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